A Murder To Remember

chapter 2... Jeff's Nightmare

so heres part two of three!!! Im pretty sure i'll write more to it later. i just dont know when. why i named this guy jeff, i dont know. so read it and COMMENT!!!! it will all be welcomed!! tell me what you think or what you might like to see happen if i write more. DO IT!!

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Jeff sat in a desk at school, listening to the teacher go on about equations and other stuff he did not care about. He was thinking about the football game tonight. The team could not win without him. After all, he was the quarterback. All of a sudden the intercom came on.

"Students," said a voice Jeff could not identify.

"I have set up a series of bombs throughout the school that will go off in the next five minutes. All that wish to not get blown up can get shot instead. Have a nice rest of your life!"

Then the intercom turned off. Where’re all going to die! thought Jeff.

He ran to the door, only to find it locked. A bomb was drilled into the wall. The timer on it said one minute. One of the kids tried to jump up and reach it, but was a few inches to short. The timer was now down to thirty seconds. A small blue wire was sticking out of the bottom of the bomb. If I could reach it then I could disarm the bomb. But how can I get to it? he wondered. That’s when it hit him, one of the desks. He pushed a desk into the corner and climbed on top of it. He only had four seconds left. He pushed aside the wire and grabbed the red one beside it. Just as the timer struck zero he pulled the red wire, and…

All of a sudden, his head hit his carpeted floor. He rolled over to find his little brother sitting on his bed, looking at him.

"What was that for, Tim?" he asked.

"Mom said to get you up, so I did," was Tim’s simple answer. He then got off Jeff’s bed and went downstairs.

"Just wait Tim," Jeff muttered, as he got dressed.

He looked around his room and sighed. When he was born, he had a normal room. Then when Tim came along, his parents moved his room up into the attic. The floor was made of wood, so the floor could get very cold over night.

"Hurry up Jeff, or you’ll be late for school," his mother yelled from the kitchen.

The smell of waffles drifted up the stairs. He quickly made his bed, and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

After he had eaten, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair, he plopped down in front of the television to watch the news. He turned it on and turned it to channel ten. All of a sudden a picture of Suzan came up on the screen. The headline under it said eight grader found dead outside of home in Gatesville. His eyes grew to the size of a baseball when he saw that. Just like in my nightmare! he thought. We all get picked off one by one until the murderer bombs the school, killing us all. He tried to wipe that thought out of his mind. Like that would ever happen. He got up, grabbed his coat, and walked out to the bus stop.

* * * * *

"Hey! Did you hear about Suzan?" his friend, Mark, asked him when he got off the bus.

"Yes, I did. Isn’t that kind of creepy? She was so tense and jumpy the day before," he answered.

"Maybe she saw something she wasn’t supposed to see. Like an illegal drug trade or a hit and run on the highway, or even…"

"Can we please change the subject? It’s creeping me out to much," Jeff asked, wanting to forget about his nightmares from that night.

"Um… O.k. So are you ready for the game tonight? I bet we’ll do really well. After all, West Gatesville team hasn’t won a game all season." Mark said as they walked to their lockers.

"We better do well," Jeff replied. "I didn’t stay and practice an hour more every day just to loose to the worst team in the county."

"Come on. We have to get to class."

* * * * *

Jeff sat on his bed, thinking. I don’t understand. Suzan had everything she ever wanted. She had tons of friends to. Who would want to kill her? As he sat there pondering these thoughts, he noticed some police cars driving by with their sirens on. He ran downstairs and went to follow them. When they finally stopped, he noticed that they were in front on Suzan’s neighbor’s house. Mr. and Mrs. Jameson have lived there. Mrs. Jameson was standing outside, sobbing. Police filed into the house, which was now a crime seen. Some other police were using police tape to secure the area. Jeff walked over to Mrs. Jameson. "What happened?" he asked.

"I had gone to a doctor’s convention for the week, and when I came back, I found Him lying by the window. I ran over to see if he had just fallen, but when I touched him, he was as cold as ice," Mrs. Jameson explained, her eyes watering up with tears as she talked.

"That’s awful," Jeff exclaimed.

He left Mrs. Jameson to sob, and walked over to the door to see the crime seen. Thankfully, none of the cops stopped him. They were to busy checking the body and examining the remains of a broken glass vase near the body. "Was he murdered?" he asked one of the cops looking at Mr. Jameson’s body.

"We think so. He has some stab wounds and some of the broken vase stuck in his hair. Whoever did this mush have smashed the vase on his head and stabbed his while he was still dazed," the cop replied. "You need to get out of here. This is a crime seen, and only cops should be in here.

After he was out of the house, he looked across the street at Suzan’s house. Is that her window? He thought as he looked at the window with the pink drapes. He walked over and knocked on the door.

Mrs. Parkers, Suzan’s mom, answered the door. "Hello Jeff," she said. "What brings you here?"

"I kneed to see Suzan’s room," He replied.

"Oh. Um…ok."

When they went into Suzan’s room, he was surprised at how pink her room was. Everything was pink. The walls, the bed, all the dressers and seats, even the screens over the windows were pink. It looked like something a life-size Barbie doll would do to her room. Once he got use to being in the pink room, he walked over to the window. Just as I thought. Her window has a perfect view of the Jameson’s window where Mr. Jameson was murdered. Mark was right. She probably saw the murder. Then the murderer must have come to her and told her not to tell anyone, but feeling that he/she couldn’t trust her, decided to kill her instead. That would explain the bomb in her locker. So my nightmare is finally coming true. Suzan’s mom coming in the room with a telephone interrupted his thoughts.

"That’s your mom. She wants you to make sure that your home for dinner," she explained.

"Tell her I’ll be home in a few hours," Jeff replied.

On the walk home, he thought of all the people that could have talked to Suzan, and still have access to the locker room and get away with bringing the bomb in to. All the evidence points to one on the teachers. he thought. And she said that Miss Klava kept her after homeroom to talk. So it must be Miss Klava. I need to check out her house. Jeff changed direction and walked towards the street that she lived on.

* * * * *

Jeff was now sneaking into Miss Klava’s backyard. It was mostly filled with junk and old barrels full of grenades and bombs and other weapons. At the very back he found patches of fresh and old overturned dirt. Some of them had a piece of wood with words on it poking out of the ground behind them. Jeff leaned over and read the words painted on one of them.

"Jennie McHuff. Fourteen years old. Murdered in nineteen ninety-nine," Jeff read out loud. "I know her! She was a grade before me. They said she disappeared." He went down the row and read all the gravestones. Some on the people he knew from school, and some he had know idea who they were. "Wait a minute. Why couldn’t the police find the bodies?" That’s then it clicked. "Miss Klava killed them, and then buried the bodies so they wouldn’t be found."

"Two bad know body will be able to find out that you found out," somebody said in a raspy voice. He turned around to find Miss Klava standing about six feet behind him, a gun pointed right at him. That’s when she shot the gun. Jeff felt a fierce pressure by his heart. He fell to his knees. I was right. he thought. My nightmare would come true but in a different and more dangerous way than I could ever imagine. Then he fell onto his face, and blacked out.